


Loving angels instead

by 700wordsAmonth



Category: Wynonna Earp (TV)
Genre: F/F, First Kiss, Fluff, Love at First Sight, One Shot, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-10
Updated: 2019-07-10
Packaged: 2020-06-25 14:50:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,315
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19747933
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/700wordsAmonth/pseuds/700wordsAmonth
Summary: Waverly is back from the garden and there's new people around. One in particular keeps catching her attention.A reimagining: what if Nicole had only gotten to Purgatory after Waverly was taken by the garden?





	Loving angels instead

It’s warm.

There’s a cool breeze messing up her hair and giving signs of the sun slowly saying goodbye for the day, but it’s warm, which is why she doesn’t realize it at first. But the smell is different, the landscape is more mountains than woods, and the feeling is different too, she doesn’t feel like prey here. She’s home, finally.

Waverly spins slowly, taking in what surrounds her, and her breathing is momentarily hindered, she’s not sure if it’s from the sight of Wynonna running to her or the direction her spinning turned her to, against the wind.

“Hey, baby girl,” Wynonna says, coming closer, tears in her eyes, in her voice and on her hands, which reach out to her but refrain from touching.

“Wy-” she tries to say, but a sob escapes her. She closes the small distance and buries herself in her sister’s arms, her nose hidden against her neck, and she’s home, she’s home. She’s safe and she’s home.

The wind picks up and makes of Wynonna’s hair her curtain from the world. She feels and hears a painful, powerful heartbeat inside her chest, against her chest. It is a while before that single muscle calms down in two different ribcages. Only then does Waverly take enough distance to realize that there are other people with them: Doc, who had been there with her, Jeremy, Nedley, a woman with a lot of tattoos and- her heart jumps again, but this time it feels like it is only hers, not shared. It jumps, surprised, and falls back to a quick trot as her eyes take in red strands of hair that are brushed behind a cute ear and light brown irises looking back at her.

She had never had an opinion on ears before.

“Who’s that?” Waverly asks Wynonna, her gaze unable to leave the redhead.

“Ginger Spice? That’s Nicole, new deputy. You can trust her, I promise. And the tattoo artist canvas is Valdez. She’s great with a hatchet.”

“Nicole...” She repeats to herself.

“Yup,” Wynonna agrees, and it sounds like a sob. “Nicole and Valdez, I’ll tell you more about them later. Ready to go home?”

Nedley drives the squad car back to town, leaving them all with Wynonna’s blue truck. The woman, Nicole, takes the driver seat, the other one calling shotgun, which leaves Wynonna, Waverly, Jeremy and Doc to squeeze themselves into the backseat.

The drive is quiet and short and, once at the homestead, the others don’t stay more than five minutes to check with Wynonna if she wants them to stay or if the sisters need anything before leaving.

And this Nicole, she holds Waverly’s attention for every single one of these almost 300 seconds, sending her heart on a gallop again just before leaving, her warm hand and well-manicured fingers squeezing Waverly’s affectionately in goodbye.

“Welcome back home, Waverly. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.”

A _you too_ gets stuck in Waverly’s throat while her mind focuses on another matter - _should a cop’s hand feel this soft?_

* * *

For the first time in eight months, Waverly wakes up in her bed, clean, her hair washed with actual shampoo and in need of a severe haircut.

It had been difficult, the night before. Neither her, nor Wynonna or Doc knew where to start, what to tell or ask. After what felt like minutes of silence, Waverly had finally asked – _how long?_ That had been the only hard topic they’d managed to tackle. Hopefully they’d have time for everything else that had to be said.

Waverly comes downstairs to the smell of coffee and pancakes and to the sight of Nicole manning her cooktop.

“Oh.”

 _“Jesus!”_ Nicole turns around startled, clearly not having heard her come down.

“Sorry.”

Nicole shakes her head, dismissing the need for the apology. “You’re up,” she says, wiping her hands on the kitchen towel, her chest still rising and falling noticeably due to the light scare. “How do you take your coffee?”

“I… with cream. Sorry again,” Waverly frowns and looks around the kitchen, “I don’t mean to be rude, but why are you here?”

Nicole hands her the cup and the cream, and a light pink tint rises to her cheeks, put on the spot in a way that hadn’t been Waverly’s intention.

“Right now, I’m here to make breakfast.”

“Right now? So, there are other times?” Waverly asks studying Nicole closely.

“I… Your sister was having a hard time with you… gone. So, I was put on Earp care, kinda.”

Waverly's eyes widen in surprise. “Nedley had you babysit her?”

The pink in Nicole's cheeks gets brighter. She looks down and then up at Waverly again with a shy smile on her lips, and, _damn_ , Waverly would consider that a cheap shot in any tv series, but the pull it causes in her feels physical. Waverly holds onto the table to prevent her body from moving inappropriately closer to Nicole.

“I’ll admit I wasn’t particularly happy about it at first, but I wanted to know, _really_ _know_ what was going on. So, I come around, help with research, help Wynonna… She’s not going to admit it, but we became friends. At least I like to think so… It doesn’t feel that much like babysitting when you’re watching out for a friend.”

Waverly feels her lips tugging into a smile. “That’s very sweet of you, Officer…?”

“Haught.”

“I’m sorry?”

“That’s my last name: Haught. But you can call me Nicole.”

“Damn…” Waverly grimaces. “Wynonna must’ve had a field day with that.”

Nicole chuckles as she nods. “The first two weeks were a challenge. Her first reaction, though, was that it was _oddly descriptive_.”

Waverly laughs then, her eyes meeting Nicole’s as the moment settles. “That it is.”

Waverly finds that she likes making Nicole blush.

* * *

On her first night back, Waverly was too tired to dream. She hadn’t wanted to go to bed at all, hadn’t wanted to lose sight of Wynonna when the night fell, but the reality was that Doc and her were so tired that resisting was pointless.

It was a night of dreamless sleep.

On the second night she isn’t so lucky.

Waverly wakes up with Wynonna’s worried eyes on her, her sister’s hands on her shoulders. She tries to gain control of her breathing as she processes Wynonna’s words. _Just a dream, baby girl, it was just a dream._

Waverly closes her eyes and lets herself fall back into her pillow, Wynonna’s hand moving to brush sweaty hair from her forehead.

“Wanna talk about it?”

Waverly shakes her head, taking a deep breath as her body finally calms down enough to let her. She says, anyway: “It was just the forest.”

“In there? In the garden?”

Waverly nods, reaching for Wynonna’s left hand. They’ll have to talk about what went on during those eight months for the both of them; she might as well start now.

“It was just the forest. I was alone, not even Doc was there… I was alone," she repeats, "a world away from you, from everybody else, and all that there was was forest.”

Wynonna squeezes her hand, she frowns before meeting Waverly’s eyes. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there with you.”

“It wasn’t your fault, you tried to follow me.”

Wynonna shakes her head. “Still-”

“Hey,” Waverly squeezes her hand back, “I know.”

There’s a lull, a quiet moment during which Wynonna plays with Waverly’s hand.

“How bad was it… in there?”

Waverly sighs. “It wasn’t… I mean, it was bad, but nothing really _happened_ to us. It's just that there was no sense of time, no day and no night, just something in between: not too bright and not too dark. And the constant feeling that something bad was about to happen. It was the strangest thing, like having the soundtrack of a thriller on Tarzan or something. Except we were Jane and there was no Tarzan and no way out that we knew how to get to.”

Wynonna nods. “I’m glad- I mean, I’m sorry for the psychological terror, but I’m glad nothing attacked you and Doc.”

“Yea, me too… And here?”

A mirthless chuckle escapes Wynonna, “yea, in here it was a thriller alright.”

* * *

Purgatory being Purgatory, there isn’t much time for them to enjoy and celebrate her return - there are demons to kill and apocalypses to avoid. Still, it feels nice to be back at the station, researching history books and translating Latin omens.

And the fact that Nicole Haught works here adds a nice touch to the place.

It’s nice to look across the room and see her. She’s beautiful, obviously – not that her kind of beauty is in any way overstated –, but it doesn’t feel like that’s the only reason why Waverly’s attention keeps gravitating toward her. It’s almost as if Waverly can see so much good, so much kindness in Nicole, that’s it’s kinda crazy that the half-angel in this equation is Waverly, and not her.

And she doesn’t even know Nicole to be so sure of her character, but she is. Waverly is so, _so_ sure.

What she also is? Staring. _Caught_ staring.

Waverly feels heat rising to her cheeks as Nicole waves at her, a beautiful smile on her lips, and her cheeks marked by a cute pair of dimples. _Now that’s just overkill._

Nicole comes to her and pulls up a chair to sit beside her, her expression a little worried now.

“Hey, everything okay?”

Waverly likes this. Nicole sitting close to her, Nicole’s attention on her, one sign of distress away from taking Waverly’s hands into her own.

“Yea, everything is… as fine as it can be in Purgatory.”

Nicole studies her longer, and Waverly’s afraid of doing the same, afraid that the nature of her interest will be clear as day to Nicole, so she looks away briefly, meeting Nicole’s gaze again when a warm touch falls on the back of her left hand.

“You seem distracted. Wanna take a break? I know _I_ could use some food.”

“You know, I heard a lot about you from the first day I stepped into this town.”

“Really?” Waverly scrunches her nose in disbelief.

“Oh really. You’re, like, the whole town’s favorite person.”

Waverly chuckles. “Well, I did win the _nicest person in Purgatory_ election.”

Nicole stops her eating and smiles at her. “See, I don’t doubt that for a second.”

There's embarrassment rising up to Waverly's cheeks again - she can feel it becoming a trend in the presence of the deputy.

“It must seem so stupid to you.”

“No, not at all. I think it’s nice, that sense of community, of family, really. Having the older people talk about you as if you were their own granddaughter. I think it’s nice.”

“Really? Not too weird for a city girl like you?”

“It _is_ different, but not bad different. I wish I had something like that growing up.”

And Waverly can tell that there’s something there, a hurt in Nicole's eyes and tone that she’d like to learn about. But this is not the time.

“A country girl at heart.”

Nicole laughs lightly and her hand moves closer to Waverly’s on the table, but she doesn’t touch it. Waverly sees Nicole's throat moving before she meets her eyes again.

“Yea, you could say that.”

* * *

Waverly and Wynonna are alone in the homestead, one demon down for the day and one bottle of whisky half-way through.

“Wy?” Waverly calls and licks her lips for the residual taste of the sip she’s just taken. Her left hand passes the bottle along.

“Yea?”

“You spent a lot of time with Nicole when I was… in there, right?”

“Yes, but not by choice.”

Waverly rolls her eyes, a fond tilt to her lips. “What do you know about her?”

“Why? You get a weird feeling from her or something?”

“No. Not at all. She seems great.”

Wynonna frowns in doubt. “Really?”

“I mean, of course. What’s not to like?”

“Want a list?” Wynonna asks, but gives no pause for Waverly to answer. “She wakes up way too early, though she doesn’t take too long in the shower, so that’s a pro. She’s not a great cook. Decent, but not great. And she’s a narc and annoying.”

Waverly stares at Wynonna, who stares back at her.

“I’m okay with all that.”

“You would.”

“Oh _please_ , stop your act, you like her.”

“I _put up with her_. It’s different.”

“ _She_ puts up with _you_. She came over to cook for you because of how inadequate you are in the kitchen.”

“She came over and cooked _barely decently_ for me because of how inadequate I am in the kitchen.”

The both of them stare at each other again.

Wynonna breaks first.

“I will concede that she can keep up with me when it comes to drinking. Only her next day is _way_ worse than mine, which sucks for her,” she concludes. “Why are you so interested in my opinion of her anyway?”

Waverly looks away from Wynonna, her gaze lost somewhere further away.

“No reason.”

* * *

Waverly is more than ready for their demons to become more urban and less forest-adjacent, and Wynonna fought hard to keep Waverly out of this one. But, as it is, Waverly’s the most likely to recognize the place used for the ceremony to summon the _viridis belua,_ and according to her research, it should be a place close to nature and water.

The plan was for Wynonna, Doc, Waverly and Nicole to search the forest together, all of them feeling anxious at the idea of Waverly in the woods. But there was too much ground to cover, so they adapted: Wynonna and Doc walk in opposite directions but within the same diameter, having Waverly and Nicole as the center. If anyone notices anything suspicious, they call for Waverly to check the spot.

As the group moves further into the woods, though, and as the sun loses its warmth, Waverly’s heart starts racing, her breathing shorter. She takes her phone from her pocket and finds Wynonna’s contact.

The call doesn’t complete. There’s no signal.

“Nicole?”

“Yea?”

“Do you have signal?”

Nicole checks her phone, but there’s a small _x_ over the connection lines.

“ _Shit_. No, I don’t. Let’s start moving back. We can find the point where we lost signal.”

“But they won’t know we moved. If they’re past the signal, we won’t reach them anyway.”

“They’ll notice, okay? We’ll find them.”

 _“You don’t know that.”_ Waverly’s voice comes out high and broken, but she is suddenly too scared to care.

“Hey,” Nicole holds her hands, her thumb caressing the back of her fingers rhythmically. “We’re not lost. We’re not lost and they’re not lost. We’ll find them and get out of here before the sun sets.”

“I _know_ we’re not lost,” she answers, though the rising panic is making it hard to tell which way they came from and where they were heading to.

“Good,” Nicole says with confidence, as if trying to impart some of it to Waverly. “Then you know there is no reason to be scared.”

Waverly tries for a deeper breath, tries to work herself down, but her heart is still at a pace that pushes tears from her eyes. “And if I’m scared still?”

“Then hold my hand and squeeze it as hard as you can,” Nicole offers, turning them in another direction and starting to walk again. “Wynonna told me you were a cheerleader.”

“What?” Waverly asks, confused by the change in subject.

“She said you were a cheerleader in high school.”

“Yea, I was head cheerleader, actually.”

Nicole smiles and keeps walking, her steps unhurried. “Head cheerleader, huh? Don’t tell me you were prom queen too.”

Waverly frowns, because _yes, she was._

“Yes, I was. What’s wrong with that?”

Nicole squeezes her hand and pulls her closer, their steps never faulting.

“Absolutely nothing.”

“Then why do you look like you ate the canary?”

Nicole hums, but doesn't answer, offering another question instead.

“And were you valedictorian?”

“If you're not answering, neither am I.”

“Please?” Nicole asks, her eyes making quite a strong case for her.

Waverly knows what she’s doing, distracting her and showing her how calm she is instead of telling Waverly to calm down. It works a little. It works enough for them to reach signal and start calling Wynonna and Doc again.

Wynonna is the first to pick up. Nicole sends her their location on the GPS and the two of them sit down to wait for the others.

“How do you do that?” Waverly asks.

“Do what?”

 _Make me feel so safe_ is the first answer that comes to Waverly’s mind, but it sounds too much, too vulnerable for where they’re at.

“Feel so safe” is Waverly’s compromise.

Nicole smiles and frowns a little bit. “I don’t know, I guess it’s because I’m a calm person.”

Calm and caring and brave and insightful, Waverly completes for herself.

“You’re sure you’re not an angel?”

Nicole chuckles, “pretty sure”.

“I mean, sometimes we never know, you know?” Waverly's words come out in a rush. “I thought I knew who I was and who my parents were and, _boy_ , was I up for a surprise.”

Nicole smiles sadly. “You’ll have to tell me about that someday. But no, nothing angelic about my parents. You’re the only angel here, Waves.”

“And no chance for a _surprise, your dad is not actually your dad_?”

“No,” Nicole answers with a gentle tone. “I used to be a carbon copy of my father in his childhood, and now I’m more similar to my mother, at least physically, than I’d like to admit. Nothing exceptional here.”

Waverly turns to her more fully and sighs, cupping Nicole’s cheek in her left hand and certain that she is special, angel or not. “Now that’s just not true.”

She feels the heat rising to Nicole’s face under her palm. They’ve been moving closer so slowly in the past month that it hits Waverly by surprise, the strength of the longing she feels in that moment, alone and so close to Nicole.

Nicole’s hand covers hers on her cheek, squeezing her fingers weakly and shortening the distance between their lips.

“Would it be oka-”

Waverly doesn’t let her finish, closing the distance and taking in the softness of the flesh pressed against her own. Nicole’s kiss is slow and gentle, bringing Waverly in instead of taking. And Waverly follows seamlessly, beaconed by Nicole’s lips and tongue as easily as she had been by Nicole herself.

Moving away from the kiss, but not from the connection, Nicole nibbles lightly on her lower lip before moving to her jawline and, then, to the soft skin behind her ear. Nicole’s breath alone on that small patch of skin causes a shiver to run down Waverly’s spine, her fine hairs raising in attention when she feels warm lips attempting to hold the skin between them, but not hard enough to leave a mark.

_“Waverly!”_

The yell from behind the line of trees pulls them apart and again Waverly finds herself trying to control her breathing, this time for a much better reason.

She looks at Nicole and at her slightly bruised lips before calling back for her sister, fear of the woods thoroughly forgotten for the moment.

They didn’t find what they were looking for, but it’s becoming too dark to continue and they have no proper means of communication.

“I’m sorry, Waves,” Wynonna says from the driver seat, the four of them on the way back to the homestead. “We’ll have to buy some old school walkie-talkies and come back tomorrow. We’ll keep the same method, is that okay?”

Waverly looks in the mirror and meets Nicole’s eyes through it. She bites her lower lip to try to contain her smile.

“Oh yea, that’s totally fine.”

**Author's Note:**

> I love the pining stage. Sue me.
> 
> Also: I always reread several times to avoid too many mistakes, but English not being my first language, sometimes things escape me, especially those pesky phrasal verbs and prepositions. Feel free to give me a heads up if/when you see something isn't quite right.


End file.
